From the memories pot.

 Yesterday Dunia took this pic out from the memories pot.

The first time I wore a mask in my life, as far as I can remember, Jan 2018. 

Our days in the hospital were about to come to an end. I had a little cold that day...in that case you had to put a mask on. 

The nurses could not notice your slight sickness, but not wearing it could be risky for your baby and for other babies in the room too.

The moment you were entering there, after closing bags and coats into a locker, you had to scrub your hands with almost boiling water, up to your elbows. Anything you touched, not yours or your baby's, you had to sanitize your hands again.

Many times in these months of 2020 I thought about mums and dads having their babies in neonatal care in the middle of a pandemic. 

How hard it must be. Thousands of times more than it was for us.

I can only imagine.

I don't know anything, actually, of their path.

During those months of late autumn and winter of three years ago, without noticing it, my life and my way of thinking about so many things changed. Again. 

I have seen some dark places, I believe.

However, I also believe, I learned to embrace that and to take my calls. 

No-one is accountable for your kids more than you do, parent...

There will be always someone thinking that you are strange, and sometimes that would be the kindest opinion you get.

Only you know your path.

Only you know how deep your scars are, under the skin.